


Pacifism

by xoubliette



Series: The Very Last of Us [1]
Category: The Last of Us
Genre: F/F, Gore, Post - The Last of Us, Revenge, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:24:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoubliette/pseuds/xoubliette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After falling into a slump of comfort, the pair are attacked by a group of bandits, resulting in Fallon being left for dead while Ellie's fate remains unknown. Fallon employs a different sort of diplomacy in order to get her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pacifism

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt courtesy of my amazing Ellie RP partner, this fic is very much dedicated to the lovely Annabell. This fanfic was written using the basis of our numerous RP threads, and is based post the events of The Last of Us, four years on.

When Fallon awoke, everything hurt.   
Her bones ached beyond belief, the back of her head was leaking something sinister, and her core felt completely rattled. It took her a few moments to properly come to and realise just where she was; lying on the forest floor, her whole body in various states of pain, a rock cushioning the base of her spine. A flurry of memories rose to greet her, all of them colliding on each other to the point where they all blended horribly into one.  
Through the hysteria of her screaming mind, she pieced together one resounding notion; that Ellie was gone, that she had been left for dead, that they had let their guards down and forsaken themselves to this.  
Suddenly she was shaking, the shock pulsing through her body like a giant gust of wind, threatening to pull her from her spot on the earth and toss her into an unknown abyss. Ellie was gone. On her watch, on _her_ word, her promises that if anyone came within a hundred miles of the other woman that she would make sure they'd step no closer. Her words had held weight, a giant one that threatened the hand that held it, but she hadn't cared, every sentence had been true to her.   
_Had_.  
Because she'd failed, utterly failed, let the lurking figures around the town go ignored, fallen asleep on one of her watched when the promise of a warm bed and her love at her side had tempted her. And now she was repaying for each of these sins; her Ellie was gone and she had no idea where she was. Whether she was still breathing. What state she would be in if she was.  
For a moment she forgot the aching of her body and found her feet, her self hatred fueling her as she pounded her fists against a nearby tree. How could she have let this happen? How could she have been so blatantly stupid? The barked yielded little but more breaks in her skin, and soon she stopped, falling against the towering trunk, rubbing against the blood she had shed, shaking with a thick anger that she had only ever felt once before.  
Dead or alive she'd find Ellie, and dead or alive she'd find those fuckers that had taken her. And when she did, she knew this much; she'd tear them limb from limb. 

Soon enough she'd stumbled from the forest, into the clearing that the town made, despite more than half the buildings being overrun with plants and vines. A smattering of birds took flight as Fallon broke from the recesses of the forest, her steps beating into the concrete as she charged towards the house they'd made a home. From the outside she could already see the place was ransacked; the door had been torn from its hinges and discarded to the side, the steps were littered with droplets of blood, the wounded figure of a man lying in a pool of his own bodily fluid.   
Fallon gave him a kick quick of her boot, the man omitting a groan of pain that came from deep within him. From his side stuck a blade, wedged deep into the flesh, though apparently it had hit no major organs, as the man lay on the brink of death. A vague memory came to her then; Ellie's shouting, Ellie with a switch blade, Ellie jabbing the knife into the side of the attacker. If this had been any other day she would have smiled: that was her girl, _her Ellie_ , taking the fuckers down a notch. But then rest of the bandits had swarmed on her moments later, and she'd been dragged kicking and screaming, Fallon in tow in much the same fashion.  
With the remaining strength she had in her, which was far more than she had thought, she grabbed the collar of the man's filthy parka and dragged him up the stairs, his groans growing more and more insistent as they neared the top.   
Inside the home was far more worse; every piece if furniture had been overturned, the food they had been cooking thrown to the floor, all of the weapons they'd collected gone. Fallon let the man limply drop to the floor before grabbing one of the arm chairs, a tear running through the back of it, and hauling it upwards with a grimace.  
There was nothing to tie the man down with, she realised as she pulled him onto the seat, but he didn't seem in a state to do any struggling. One of his eyes remained shut while the other wildly flew around the room, no doubt searching for someone to come to his rescue. Fallon grimaced, taking a step backwards, her knuckles white with the force of her clench.  
The man made what sounded like an attempt at speaking as she leaned forward to grab a hold of the blade from his side. With a harsh yank she pulled it, a satisfying spurt of blood ejecting from the wound as the man made a sound akin to a dying animal. Well, that was what he was, after all. She held the blade, it was indeed Ellie's. She could tell by the familiarity in the handle. Against the leg of her pants she dragged the knife, wiping away the blood before dragging the sharp side against the man's chin.  
"What's your name?" She murmured, her voice surprisingly quiet.  
The man whined in response.  
"I said what's your fucking name?" Her voice had risen distinctly in volume, yet the same deadly monotone remained.  
"Mmph... Mm-"  
"Fucking speak dammit!" The blade was sudden in the center of the man's chest, threatening to sink deeper. He made another strangled sound as he opened his mouth.  
"Mmm...urphy... Murphy!"  
Fallon took a seat on the side of the armchair, the man's helpless gaze following her. "See, wasn't so hard, was it," her voice had restored to its normal volume as she eyed him. The man was beginning to shake, perspiration practically raining from his forehead. She was silent for a moment or two, letting him stew in his fear, just like Ellie must have when they hauled her away. Fallon ground her teeth.  
"How many of you are there?"  
"Thi... Thirty,"  
"Fucking liar," Fallon slowly cut down the man's cheek, a harsh yelp greeting the punishment, "this is what I do to fucking liars. I don't like liars, Murphy, I don't treat them well. You understand? You fucking get it?!"  
"Y-ye-yes!" The man managed.  
"So what don't I like?"  
"L-liars,"  
"So what are you not going to do?" Fallon held the blade dangerously close to the man's eye, and he clenched it shut in response.   
"Lie,"  
"Exactly, now answer the question or die a blind man. And I mean it, Murphy. I wouldn't fuck with you,"  
"T-there's... Te-... Nine. Nine not including me,"  
Fallon stood up, a cruel smile anointing her face, once again wiping the blade to rid it of the man's blood. She could handle nine, hell she could have handled thirty if that was what had stood in her way to Ellie. The man in front of her quivered with anticipation, she'd never gotten the phrase truly until now. Once again she let the man marinate in his own fear as she mulled over her next approach. She'd need to know where the fuck they were, what they had in the way of weapons, what the fuck they had planned.   
Fallon was on her knees next, the blade hovering above the man's crotch, Murphy beginning to hyperventilate at the thought of a swift plunge of the knife. "So where is your little crew taking her?"  
Murphy paused, his gaze travelling from the blade to the steely look in Fallon's eyes. She lowered the blade so that it rest comfortably on the material of his shorts.  
"The lumber... The l-lumber mill in the next t-town over... Through the forest, it's not too far... They'll take her there,"  
"Lumber mill, hey? Lots of sharp objects there," she let the blade begin to cut into the material. The man gave a yelp of fear.  
"Please, please, I'm answeri- answering your questions!"  
Fallon dug her blade lower, leaning it to the side so that it hit the man' s inner thigh. He gave a cry of pain, a wail that seemed to shake the house. The woman let the blade sink deeper before pulling upright.  
"You think just because you answer a couple questions that I'm going to go easy on you? Mother fucker you are _dead_ wrong, dead fucking wrong. You came into my house, you took someone I care for and you expect me to be bending at the knee because you tell me where your buddies took her?" She shot upwards, leaning into the man's face. She could smell stale liquor, sweat and rot on him, she could see the oily quality of his skin and the pores that marked his face. She could smell his fear, thick and hot, she could taste it on her tongue. "You're not that stupid, Murphy, surely,"  
He said nothing to this, but all the same, Fallon was satisfied. She rose to her feet, for a third time wiping away the man's blood as she weighed the next question in her mind. They would have guns, she knew that much, but they'd been quick about their attack and chances were they hadn't stumbled upon her bow. She had half a quiver of arrows, about seven or eight, but she'd only need to deplete their forces or get her hands on a loaded gun to wreak havoc. She was losing time every moment she devoted to torturing the man in front of her, and her patience was wearing thin of his sniveling. She didn't need to know about weapons, she didn't even really know if any of them were crack shots. She needed the motive, she had to know why they'd taken Ellie.  
"Why'd they take her?"  
Murphy hesitated, managing to open his other eye. Fallon could see it was heavily bruised, the result of a collision with Ellie's elbow when she'd fought to get away from him. His eyes were leaking tears, bloodshot and battered. Mucus rolled from both nostrils, his mouth slightly agape, his breath coming in quick pants. Despite his state, Fallon had little sympathy for him, and was torn between finishing him off with a swift blow from the knife or letting him bleed out on the furniture.  
"Murphy," she said, her tone a warning.  
He gulped, "She... She's the girl... She's the girl who knows T-Texas,"  
She was stumped, the name falling on deaf ears. Texas? Ellie had never mentioned the state, let alone someone she knew by the same name. Then again, Ellie had been just as patchy about her history as Fallon had been, and her time spent outside of the QZ remained like frosted glass. She tried not to let her voice falter when she responded, "Texas huh? This guy got another name?"  
Murphy moved his shoulders upwards in what could be called a shrug. "I'm... 'M only a foot... Foot soldier. The o-one who knows is Kane,"  
"Kane... I'll look out for him," Fallon was shifting from one foot to the other, she was getting restless and Murphy's usefulness had finally faltered. With a grimace, she pointed the blade to the center of his chest. "You'll be seeing Kane and your buddies on the other side,"  
One plunge was all it took. The man didn't fight it, heck Fallon could even sense a look of relief in his eyes as he let out a last gurgle before slumping. With little relish she removed the blade, taking a step backwards.   
One down, nine to go. 

Fallon perched herself in a tree that held a vantage point of the lumber mill, peering past the branches to survey the area. It seemed the attention was centered around a main office building; the concrete hut was guarded by two stocky looking men, four others were scattered around the complex's fence line. That left three; one seemed to be on some sort of look-out post that provided little more view of the complex than the men stationed at the door. The other two were with Ellie, she could feel it in her gut, and name Kane sat on her tongue, the taste like tar.  
And then she was slipping from the embrace of the branches, making her way down the hill, covered by the thick brush surrounding the mill. She took pause when she was within a hundred meters of the fence, the guard with the goggles was halfheartedly glancing around the area before returning to cleaning his gun. She moved sideways, her eyes having found a hole in the fence roughly her size and shape, covered by a water tank rusted with age. She made it through the fence with little hiccups, peering around the corner to check that the guard was still where he stood.  
The man was shadowed by another office-like building, and he made little noise when the arrow lodged itself into his throat. He fell to the floor, blood raining from his neck in a waterfall of gore. Seconds later he was no longer moving, lying motionless on the ground, twitching as the life seeped out of him. She waited a moment or two to make sure his body's impact to the ground hadn't summoned the others before moving over to his bloody corpse. She pulled the gun from underneath him, the blood warm and sticky between her fingers but she gave it little mind. She found it ironic that a gun that was being cared for so well would be forever stained with the owner's gore.  
The weapon was loaded, the safety switched off but soon enough Fallon changed that. It was a rifle, with a strap to support it, and Fallon tossed it over her shoulder. She wanted to keep silent while she secured the perimeter. However when the time came, the men who had Ellie would know they were going to die. She'd make sure of it.   
The next two men fell by her arrows with little problem. The last man, however, stumbled upon one of the corpses, whose she did not know, and sounded the alarm.  
"The other bitch is around here somewhere; why the fuck didn't you take her out?!"  
"She was just some girl, how the fuck was I to know that she'd find us?"  
"Murphy's the one we should have put a bullet in; the man was always useless under pressure,"  
"Should we let the bosses know?"  
"And get our heads chewed off? She had the slip on us but trust me, we'll get her now,"  
Fallon had managed to shimmy into one of the office buildings, and listened with pricked ears to the men's conversation. The command to split up made her laugh, if they were going to have any chance with her, they'd need to be together. The sound of footsteps brought her back into the present, and she slipped into the next room before the door's handle was turned.  
She could hear the man's heavy, labored breathing as he slowly made his way through the room. Fallon crouched behind the doorway to the next room as he rounded a table that sat in the middle of the entrance. Pulling an arrow from her quiver, in one swift movement she was on her feet; loosing the arrow into the back of his neck. He made a strangled noise before he fell to the ground, pulling the arrow from his body with a groan as he turned on his heel. Fallon flattened her body to the wall, inching to the side, hoping that she'd disappeared from sight for the moment. Now was time for the rifle, she reasoned, quickly taking it into her arms.  
As he stumbled into the room, she was ready and waiting, releasing a bullet into the side of him, then again into his chest, then again into his stomach.  
Shouts outside made her stop, breathing hard as running footsteps approached her. She was sick of scuttling around in the dark, she could feel the clock ticking away in the pit of her stomach. The first man fired at her, his bullet skimming the side of her leg. She blasted him in the head, the debris of his body obscuring the man behind him, living and dead colliding harshly, blood flying in ever direction. Fallon was on the man before he had time to shove his fallen comrade aside, he died with a hand raised in defense. Fallon spat on his corpse before she kicked the bodies out of the way, running now towards the center of the mill.  
There was blood in her mouth; blood of the men she'd killed, her own blood, she didn't know and she didn't care. The man emerging from the building was less human and more a blur; a blur that went from standing to lying in a matter of seconds. The door swung shut, there was someone pushing against it, and Fallon could hear a grunt, a series of swear words, the sound of fear.  
She bashed manically against the wood, her shoulder buffeting most of the blows, her efforts growing more and more stronger by the second. The door burst forth, the man had fallen, a pathetic look on his features, scarred and buffed by apocalypse, his clothes caked in muck. Fallon towered before him the rifle dropping from her grip and clattering to the floor.  
"Is this what you wanted you fucker?" Fallon growled in a low voice.  
"Y-You... You crazy bitch!" the man sputtered, flecks of spittle emerging from his chapped lips. Fallon kicked, the act falling between his thighs, and he buckled with the pain.  
"Say that again! Say that one more time, _please_ , call me a crazy bitch one more time before you die. I want to be the last thing on your mind when I split your skull in two!"  
"Psycho, fucking bitch... You'll pay for this! You'll fuckin' pa-"  
Fallon stepped forward once, twice, before her foot connected with his head. The man gave a cry as he boot collided again, and again, and again. The crack of a broken nose, the sound of gurgled spit and blood, the sudden violent spasms of a man dying. Her boots were covered in the remains of the man's head, flecks of flesh sliding down the leather and in between her shoe laces. Suddenly she was thrown backwards, her body falling to the floor... No, on top of something.  
Someone.  
"Fallon! Fallon stop!"  
Ellie. Fallon scrambled upwards, her body turning so fast that she was sure she'd managed to pull a muscle, but that didn't matter. Ellie's hair was matted to her forehead with blood, a deep gash running along her hairline. Her lip was split, her right eye was darkening with a bruise, but that didn't matter; she was alive.  
"You're okay," Fallon whispered, her voice hoarse. There was something warm on her face, she was crying, the tears rolling down her cheeks as her shoulders began to shake uncontrollably. "I thought maybe you wouldn't be okay... But you're okay,"  
"Fallon," Ellie's smile was small and sad, but it was still her own, "Fallon... You're scary, you know that?"  
She managed a small laugh, a harsh bark of a chuckle. "Yeah... Yeah I know that,"  
"Let's get out of here," Ellie was on her feet, her hand cradling Fallon's own, steadying her as the other woman rose. It was Fallon who slumped against the other.  
"Yeah... Let's go,"


End file.
